


Go Fuck Yourself

by ninayoshi



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hannibal is a cocktease, Knotting Dildos, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-12-02 00:28:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20948978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninayoshi/pseuds/ninayoshi
Summary: Will is frustrated and Hannibal knows the perfect way to push his buttons.





	Go Fuck Yourself

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InfiniteCrisis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfiniteCrisis/gifts).

> From the Hannigram Kinkmeme prompt:  
Will tells Hannibal “go fuck yourself” and Hannibal, um. Does. He’s all like all like, ‘Well, if you insist,’ and he takes his pants off right there, pulls out some lube and a dildo, and just…goes to town. He smirking the whole time, and enjoys himself immensely. 
> 
> Will is annoyed, horrified, and really turned on.  
\--  
There isn't any lube in here. Hannibal likes the pain. He's a masochist like that. Thanks to StargateNerd for beta-ing this for me! Without you I'll still type without making any sense.

“I will never have what they are having.”

The clinking of cutlery stopped, and the man opposite him tilted his head up, chewing pensively.

“You can have whatever you want, whatever I can give.”

Will snorted, his own utensils dropped brashly against the mahogany table top. The harsh sound was shrill in the quiet restaurant, even now everyone stares across the room at the peculiar jarring sound, like a wrong note in a symphony.

Out of place.

That was what Will felt, always felt, even now. He laughed, an awkward, derisive sound. Rubbed his left hand across his mouth, stifling the sound. The gold band shimmered softly in the orange glow of candles, and that was reflected in Hannibal’s amused eyes as well.

When the soft murmurs of high-class socialites began once more, and when the silence between them stretched so far that Will imagined light could never touch the both of them at the same time, he spoke.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

Hannibal seemed so still, perhaps he was not listening. Will knows him far too well that he had many things to talk about, yet preferred the unacceptable answer of a half-smile, and the continued cutting of his knife against the meat.

The meat oozes more red than pink in this light. Will pushed his meal away.

“Would you rather have what they are having?”

A mild question.

Will spat back. Mildly.

“Fuck you.”

—

Hannibal learns that Will’s mood, like the waxing and waning of the moon, fluctuates with time. It never disappears, even when Will is at his happiest. A low, unassuming simmering constant of bitterness.

Hannibal also learns that Will’s full rage is a spectacle to behold.

It is what he is beholding as Will slams him into their bedroom wall, kissing him with a desperation akin to starvation. He bites, all teeth, no gentleness. 

His shirt is yanked roughly from his own body, but Will is not relinquishing any of his own.

Will separates himself from Hannibal briefly, hands clasping on the carpet of hair on his chest, breathing heavy. They both are, but Will inhales with purpose, and exhales anger.

He looked flushed as well, even more so when Will caught him staring.

“You are like a marble statue.”

“Priceless, eternal, ever pondering,” Hannibal noted the metaphor, and the thought of posing as the Thinker just to anger Will further was funny. He allowed that thought to pass, returning a heated look at Will. “I only wonder what you wish to inflict upon me this night.”

“A proposition, a dinner, a good fucking without you being obtuse. Two out of three and you’re disappointing me on the third.” Will snarls, his fingers clenching and unclenching. Hannibal feels Will’s urge to pull and drown them both (again). Perhaps he wouldn’t come out unscathed tonight.

Or perhaps he wouldn't be allowed to come at all.

“What’s so funny?” Will frowned, his breathing evened out to become more human, and less that of an eager wolf baring fangs.

“Nothing obtuse. Do you wish to see me come undone, or not come at all? After all, your particular brand of cruelty has always been voyeuristic in nature.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Hannibal licks his lips. He can work with that. He left Will to broil in his own angry devices, and rummaged through the nightstand.

He hears a frustrated sigh, muffled briefly by Will’s hand, that old habit of his. Then the soft creak of a weight against the bed, and the quiet shifting of clothes against skin. Impatient.

Hannibal pulled out the object he was looking for, holding it up for Will to admire. It is a nine-inch beauty of a silicone dildo, marbled red and black, textured with ribbings, and situated at the bottom is a big, fat knot.

“A knotted dildo, huh. Sure I can-“

Just briefly, before Will could comment, Hannibal placed the suction cup base firmly against the floor. His eyes widened in surprise, mouth gaping. His cock straining further still against his unzipped pants, his body reading the situation far better than himself. 

Without much noise Hannibal squatted over the thick dildo, holding the silicone toy upright as he took it in, inch by agonising inch.

“Going in dry?” Will asked distractedly, his fingers grasping at the bedsheet as he refused to touch himself. Hannibal had denied that, since he did tell him to go fuck himself. He watches on, mixed with guilt and all consuming arousal.

Hannibal nodded, letting out a strained grunt as another inch slides home. His thighs were already shaking, making his body shudder and his cock bounce proudly against his furred stomach. This sight alone could make Will come undone, as he hips twitched furtively against the air, seeking the relief of his pants chafing his groin, even if it did little to soothe the desire and only served to amplify it.

When Hannibal finally,  _ finally _ , took everything in except the knot, the both of them groaned in unison. He opened his eyes, realising between placing the dildo down and shoving it in he had unwittingly closed them. A missed opportunity, to admire the desperation in Will’s eyes, the occasional lip curl of dissatisfaction that Will himself might not even notice.

This is perfect still. Will looked absolutely wrecked already, rolling his hips as he stared at the place where silicone was buried deep within Hannibal. The picture of wanton need, sweat a gleaming sheen on his skin, flushed cheek compounded by alcohol from the dinner prior, and his upper teeth gnawing at his plush bottom lip.

Hannibal lets out an unbidden cry when clenching around the dildo, and Will downright snarls at the sound.

“Move, Hannibal.”

Hannibal does move this time, the length of the dildo slowly sliding out of him. The friction burn is satisfying, a deep-seated ache that makes his cock even wetter. The ribbing makes the sensation so much  _ more _ , with each bump that scrapes at his inside he lets out a shaky sigh. Whether it’s due to pain or pleasure he couldn’t tell at the moment, all blurring into one perfect feeling of  _ good _ . He licked his own lips, and his eyes never strayed from the pained expression on Will’s face.

Words escape him. This lovely pain that the both of them bear is exquisite.

When the tip was barely in, Hannibal slammed himself down against the dildo, letting out a sharp, keening cry, the sudden motion and sound snapping Will out of his greedy reverie.

“Fuck, you look so fuckin’ good.” His hands were planted at his sides, unwilling to give in as his arousal demands the same rapt attention he is giving to Hannibal. He bites down, his lower lip now more bloody than bruised.

The blooming scent of Will’s blood, his arousal, only sent Hannibal into a frenzy. He leaned back on his elbows, shaky thighs spread further apart, allowing Will the full view. From this angle, he could barely see Will, but alas it was the price to pay for fucking himself on this plastic cock with ease.

Before Hannibal could move again, Will shut his eyes and let out a frustrated growl.

“Can I… Can I touch myself?” An audible click of dry throat as he swallowed. “Please?”

Who is he to deny his sweet boy? His dear Will, with all the sharp unrefined edges that defined his darkness. Where Hannibal delights in the pain, Will relishes in his cruelty. But denial is all he shall get.

“No.”

A simple command, a cruelty he must endure now. He must wait to see this come to fruition.

There was a heated silence, and Hannibal took this opportunity to start moving. He threw his head back, moaning freely, his hips canting back in eagerness. The feeling had him wanting more, and all the pain had given way to something far more pleasant.

What he didn’t expect, however, was a hot wet suction against his nipple. His body flinched at that, a confusing stutter between wanting more and shying away from it.

Hannibal gritted his teeth and tilted his head up, only to see Will laving at the bud with a salacious grin and a soft groan.

Of course Will would take this as a challenge. If he can’t touch himself, then… Hannibal is open season.

“Awful boy.” The chastisement holds no heat, sounding more like a weak plea.

Will hummed against his skin, continuing to lick and suck loudly at the pert flesh as his hands roam. They move past the soft expanse of his tummy, and snake down between his legs, ignoring his straining cock. Nails dig sharply against the sensitive inner thighs, earning a sharp gasp from Hannibal. His thighs shake violently now, wanting more than ever to let the rhythm lapse and seat himself fully upon the dildo.

Hannibal has to show restraint. This is a game now, between two participants who want nothing more than to tear each other asunder. A game he does not intend to lose.

He pushed himself back into a squatting position, knocking Will away with a click of his tongue and an adamant swipe of his hand.

“Rude.” Will muttered, taking his position beside Hannibal and reached out to-

Hannibal smacked his hand away wordlessly, already narrowing his concentration to the deep seated pleasure of the dildo and his controlled movement. Every muscle is a taut string, and one wrong move will make him snap.

Will scowled. Fine. If he can’t use his hands to pleasure either of them, he will use his words.

Hannibal is a shaking, writhing thing, love in both his violence and his torturous pleasure. Will knows he is thoroughly affected by Will’s proximity, and the implicit  _ threat _ of his presence, akin to a rattlesnake’s warning when one gets too close. Will wants to get close, crawl under his skin and make himself home.

“Be a darling and rub your palm against your chest and tummy, would you?” His breath skirted against Hannibal’s ear. He shuddered, calves screaming in pain but still he obeyed, his large hand spreading across his furred chest and groping his chest. It was but a distant distraction. 

“That’s it. Good boy. Continue your pace.”

Hannibal catches the whine before it was let out of his lips. He would not give Will this satisfaction; he has to earn it. He worked his hips hard against the dildo still, but never letting the knot slip in fully. Always a tease. Will licked his lips, his eyes following the trailing hand further. Both of them extending this slow dance, neither of them truly taking a step forward to take the plunge.

“Why haven’t you touched yourself? I want to see.”

Hannibal’s hand wrapped gingerly around himself, letting out a guttural moan as he rode the dildo in earnest, stroking himself in time with his hips, his other hand supporting his upper body as he twists, rolling his hips further, deeper.

The knot barely breached, and Will is almost at the end of his tether.

“Deeper, darling. You can do it.” He purred, reaching out to him, but flinched when he remembered he could not really touch him. Not now.

Hannibal nodded weakly, his gaze darting towards Will, seeking permission just as each movement drove the knot closer and closer, each push a spark of arousal, but not nearly enough to ignite. It will have to be more than just  _ this _ .

Will looked dazed, his mouth opened in awe and adoration. To watch Hannibal, the apex predator, monster of monsters, do this, while allowing Will enough permission to do as he pleases... A warm feeling stirred within his chest. One that eats away the consciences of men and lurks in the darkest depths of nightmares. 

To call it love is reductive. To call it worship gives far too much credit to God.

He sees the tremble in Hannibal’s lips, his face scrunching up, to focus on the pleasure- or rather, not giving into the pleasure, not until Will gives him reason to. He stills, gritting his teeth.

“Will-”

The man responded with a hum, and gently wrapped his own hands around Hannibal’s, dictating the pace. They stroke earnestly, quickly, the pleasure is starting to build, a dam almost ready to burst.

“Go ahead.”

Hannibal lets his weight drop fully, feeling his rim give way to the swell of the base, the shape pushing unforgiving and deep,  _ oh so deep, he’s going to come, Will _ -

He feels the warm and wet familiarity of Will’s mouth on him, and he is gone, hips trying to buck up but the knot refuses to give. His body is wracked with pulses of pleasure, shooting through his synapses, waves and waves of wonderful, overwhelming pleasure devouring him. He hears the delightful moan of his lover, and knows that he had very well came as well, from the shared feeling of pleasure. His wonderful mind had supplied the rest.

Their breaths were loud in the otherwise quiet room, and Will laid on the ground, chuckling breathlessly. Hannibal is still perched on the dildo, the feeling of being so full not entirely unwelcome. Every small shift presses the knot against his prostate and it feels too good to stay completely still. Will rolled to his side to meet his eyes, loose-limbed and grinning.

“Really. I wanted to surprise you and you surprised me with this.” He drawled, his eyes wandering once more to see the entire dildo fitting snugly between his asscheeks.

Hannibal huffed, straightening his back so his full weight wasn’t pressing on it anymore. The knot tugged at his chafed rim, sore and definitely looks painful, but he did not utter a single sound of distress. “You did tell me to go fuck myself, so I did.” His tone was level, as per usual. Nothing deters him.

Will leaned up and Hannibal meets him halfway, pressing their lips together. A slow, deep kiss, one that savours instead of devours. The taste of Hannibal lingers as they part.

“I don’t think I want to have what anyone else is having now. Not when I have you.”

Their foreheads touch, and Hannibal smiles.

“You will always have me.”


End file.
